#*danny screams*

[ectojesterdraws]

[wanologic]

always good to keep a screamhole handy

[stars-obsession-pit]

Damn it, not again

Danny Fenton is fucking tired of rich fruitloops trying to adopt him.

At first it was just Vlad Masters. But no, it couldn’t stop there.

He moved to Metropolis City for college, and some bald guy tried to approach him talking about how he was interested in his family’s tech and they could use it to defeat Superman and lead humanity into a new age.

Which, fuck no, creep.

So he transferred to a different college in Gotham. And of course Danny can never have nice things, so the resident billionaire there had to take interest in him too after the city’s vigilantes caught him phasing through his house’s window.

Well okay maybe that one was on him, he could have been more careful with his powers, but still.

So he moved again, this time to somewhere remote with as few billionaires as possible.

…Where he then promptly gets kidnapped by ninjas and wakes up in the cult-y basement of yet another fruitloop, this time one spouting off about immortality and Lazarus something-or-other.

Where else can he go at this point!? Space???

…Nah, knowing his luck that’d probably end up with an alien fruitloop trying to adopt him as a pet or something

Maybe the deep ocean would work?

[zillychu]

hmmm "stuck in the ghost zone" no one knows au thoughts :)

[2kiran]

❛ 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦, 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥, 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢ó𝐧 ❜ ➖ drb.

pairing: ghostface x reader content: bottom ghostf, top male reader, unspecified m!character, held at knifepoint genre: smut | series masterlist

“Fucking—!” Ghostface sucks in a gasp, the metallic blade gleaming under the narrowed light over your forms. “With something as big as this,” On quivering knees and one gloved hand planted on your abdomen, he lifts. “y’sure know how t–to, oh fuck me—” He drops himself down, his walls clinging to the base of your dick. “—hide it. Bet you like how a killer feels, don’t you? Yeah, you do.”

You huff, your skin adorned with a thick sheen of sweat. Pleasure rolls down the length of your spine, the muscles of your thighs trembling with the effort to not buck up into his warming heat. He leans down, grinding his hips forward as he holds up the pointed end of the knife to the center of your throat. “You like your victim.” You deflect, and he clenches around you to punch out a sharp intake of breath from you. He isn’t doing greatly himself, the bursts of a peeking orgasm building in the pit of his belly setting his mind to a blur.

There’s an itch he’s unable to scratch—one that the head of your cock can only graze and prod. But it isn’t enough. You’re not touching him, disregarding the fact that he was the one who commanded you not to. He needed your hands on him, on his leaky, aching dick, and on his neck, even. “Haah, fuuuuuck, shut it.” He pants, his tip throbbing with slickness. The weapon is dangerously close to your sensitive skin, ready to delve into your sickly blood and drown within it.

And you knew he’d take horrifying amusement in seeing you wounded. Wounded with a brand-like marking, giving you a reminder that you’re his. Ghostface’s man, whether you want the title or not. You’ll be haunted with the glimpse of his dark, tainted robe and that long-lasting expression of screaming.

“That’s right...” he mumbles under his breath, burying his obscured face to the crook of your neck and shoulder. He doesn’t realize he’s already speaking his fantasies, his need for you. He rides you harder, his walls spasming as he’s hit by a familiar warning of a climax approaching. “You’re mine, oohhh shit, this s’all mine.”

Your mind is swimming, your hands balled into fists. Your cock pulses inside of him, a numbing tightness coiling in your gut. His speech is hushed, meant to keep it to himself, but your ears manage to pick up on the soft syllables. You can’t deny it, not with your mouth running dry, and certainly not with your cock nestled to the hilt. He feels you jab at his sweet spot, sending the bundle of nerves aflame. Ghostface whines, eyes squeezing shut while his pace stutters.

His brain runs static. His body shudders, legs quaking almost violently. It lasts relatively long, his subconscious setting the knife beside your head to avoid accidentally cutting your jaw. Ghostface wanted you. He needed you; and when you paint his hole white, he begins to think about how badly he needs you to feel the same way.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Petal to the Metal.

It's starts off simple enough.

Tucker realizes that, with the map from the Far Frozen, there was a chance they could find an earth similar to their own within the Infinite Realms. The only difference? It would be a few years ahead of their timeline.

If they happen to pop over there and gather "helpful" tips, like "What were the lottery winning numbers in 2008?" or "What companies were the best to invest in the early 2000s?" then who would be the wiser? It's not like they were stealing anything.

They just put one foot in front of the others at the starting line. Some may say cheating (Sam) but Tucker prefered to be prepared. It didn't take too long for Danny to agree.

A way to guarantee wealth? Sucess? Heck, they may even be able to "discover" cures for deadly illnesses. It would be rather selfish of them not to use the map for the greater good.

Sam chose to stay behind, stating she was already rich and didn't need to cheat into more gold. Tucker personally thought she didn't understand the common folk like the two boys.

The plan was simple. They had already located the suitable earth; they would go in, spend a weekend sightseeing (and gathering info), and then return home. As far as their parents knew, they were going to a concert in another state, having bought fake tickets and hotel rooms to sell them. It took a lot of begging on both sixteen year olds part but eventually neither parent had denied them the trp and off they went.

Danny had even attacked a miniature portal ray to their beat-up car, having taken inspiration from the time Jonny 13 had modified his bike back in the day. He had blown it up after helping the biker win back Kitty, but he hadn't forgotten about it.

They hoped that a car like their own wouldn't stand out too badly in 2020, praying that people would just assume them to bepoor. How different could cars be in such a short time anyway?

The bags were packed, the car was filled, Danny had set the miniature portal, and the two drove out of the city limits to fire it up. It required a lot of speed, since Tucker's plain toyota wasn't a space ship design to travel the death diminsion.

Danny had offered to drive, seeing as Tucker hated being behind the wheel on long road trips, and once his parents could see them- Mr. Foley didn't like his son lending his car to his friends. One never knows what could happen with teenagers- he had switch seat with Danny.

Danny, who has Fenton blood, had him put the petals to the metal and had no problems raising their speed to the one hundred needed for the miniature portal to work. The plan was perfect.

The plan fell apart when the portal opened in front of a clown about to put on a show for a large crowd. They ran him over with their car.

"Omg! You hit a clown!" Tucker screams watching the body roll off the windsheild.

Danny's grip on the stirring wheel was knuckle white but his eyes were narrowed in satisfication. "Good"

"No not good! This isn't Freakshow! That was a random clown doing a show and we killed him!" Tucker screams as Danny puts the car in reverse and runs him over again.

"Danny!"

Outside the vechile people were screaming, lots of them pointing and one clear voice ran above the rest.

"They killed Joker!"

Danny reached down and flickered on his favoritedriving song as various people started to climb on the stage. Poeple dressed in strange clothing.

Was that a Bat?

"Hold on Tuck!" is his own warning before Tokyo Drift started blaring through the speakers as he slammed his foot on the petal again. They blew through some barrels of green liquid and drifted off the stage onto the road with Danny sining at the top of his lungs.

Tucker could barely hear himself scream as people jumped out fo the way unprepare for a Driving Fenton like Amity Park was.

Maybe Sam was right. This was a terrible idea.

[master-of-metal66]

For a long time I thought my favourite slasher was Michael Myers, but since I've been playing Dead by Daylight, I love Ghostface a lot more. There's much more fun with him 🔪🔪

[bet-on-me-13]

Clark grows up on Amity

So! When Clark's shup landed on the Kent Farm, it unfortunately started a bit of a Fire. It was pretty bad, and by the time it was put out most of their Crops had been burned up.

Using their Savings, the money from the remaining Crops, and some goodwill from their neighbors, the Kent's managed to get enough money together to move to a new Town to start over. It also helped that in a new town nobody would question them suddenly having a Baby despite Martha not being Pregnant.

They Move to a small farm on the Edge of Amity Park.

Clark Kent grows up in Amity Park, goes to Casper High, and befriends Danny, Sam, and Tucker as his childhood friends.

When his powers come in, they are the first ones to know. When Danny has his Accident, Clark is there to help him control his new abilities. When Clark has to move away for his new Job in Metropolis, they are all there to wish him good luck and throw him a Going Away Party.

As Superman, Clark is more open to joining a Team since he used to be on Team Phantom.

When Justice League Dark is formed, Superman is a Suprise Member, since he actually had a lot of experience with the Supernatural.

When Kon is born, he turns to his best friends for help and advice on his to deal with the situation. Danny had Ellie in very similar circumstances, so he is more open to the idea of adopting Kon since he has personal experience with Clones made by Madmen.

Thoughts?

[irimori]

Malevolence

[poison-p1nk]

"don't touch that dial now, we're just getting started." 🔪

[regonold]

I kinda want danny who's been adopted by the wanyes to be schmoozing it up at a gala (because listen nothing is funnier than the image of Gotham elites being like oh whats this one's gimmick cus all the other's have something only for danny to just be a dude) only for like the giw to raid the place to get danny ( cus he's a ghost? Cus he's a Fenton? Who knows)

Only for danny to pick up a bottle chug it smash it and vault out a window shouting you'll never catch me alive

Now this increases his reputation with most Gothamites and rouges and absolutely worries the fuck out of the batfam why is the government chasing you danny and hiw are you so good at running

[spiltspit]

🔪💖 revamp of my old art!

[sugoi-writes]

SYN, OH... OH BABY!

I would write all of the fanfiction if it could make some of the hurt subside! You've indeed had SUCH a time lately! Please please feel free to PM me. I'm sure there's so much more going on, and sometimes, you just need someone to talk to! So please reach out, if you think it would help you!!

It makes my heart ache and swell with the notion that 1. A lot of people out there need this kind of pick-me-up DESPERATELY and 2. It seems to genuinely help a bit. It blows my everloving mind.

To think I almost didn't post this, because I was scared of what people would think of non-smut...! Gah! I'm such a fucking goober sometimes! And I'm even sillier for thinking that this wouldn't find who it needed to. Because clearly it did. And I'm so glad it's found you, dear 💗

To you and anyone who is going through it, BELIEVE ME... I totally understand. Nothing on my end is worth posting about, but trust me when I say I am right there with ya on the not-okay metrics.

I'll try to have another fluffy piece to come out by the weekend. If you think it'll help, definitely keep an eye out for it 💗

I love you guys, and hope that all of my darlings (following, mutuals or lurking) have a great day

Time for a motherfucking hug!!!

Invictus - Alastor x GN! Reader (Fluff / Comfort)

A/N: Ahh, depression! Here is a little piece that hit me across the face while I was trying to recoup. Mentions of Alastor's regrets/angst, his mother's death (briefly/sparingly), reader is struggling mentally. I hope this can bring some comfort to folks who are going through it rn!

(lightly proofread, and made in heat of the moment, so sorry in advance!)

"...do you ever wish that you weren't the Radio Demon, Alastor? That you weren't the person you became?" 

Alastor blinks, looking up to you from across the table. What an absurd, curious question to ask. You were always full of these ideas, ones that perplexed him to no end. But when he saw the look in your glazed over, simmering gaze... he decided that humoring you would be best. 

"...come again? I don't quite understand the question, dear." 

Hands were fidgeting below the table, chest feeling tight as you formulated your next sentence. You felt like your ribcage was being crushed by a hydrolic press. The grueling, agonizing pressure from your anxiety was threatening to make you keel over. And for a moment, you thought you might give in to the feeling. Thank the stars for Alastor's reciprocation in this conversation. 

"Like... Do you ever hate the place you're at right now? As a person? Do you ever wish you could start over again? Turn a new leaf? New name, new face, new space.... I know you think 'redemption' is bullshit, but..." 

You continue to avoid him and his steely eyes, a sad smile gracing your forlorn face," If you had a chance to... Not be yourself. To start over and lead a different life... Would you?" 

Alastor's mind pondered many things. The reason he was sentenced to rot hell. The reason that his mother died. The way that he was raised, the people who he fratenized with in life. The accursed deal he was entangled in. There were many things that made him who he was. There were things that even he regretted. But for all intents and purposes, he was exactly who he needed to be... But he could always be more. 'More' would never be enough, truly. 

And so Alastor took a sip of his coffee, eyes down cast to the newspaper in his other hand," ...I suppose anyone would like a chance to start over. For menial reasons or otherwise." 

You didn't notice the way he smiled, your eyes still down cast to your trembling hands. 

"But if it's all the same to you, darling... I rather like the person you are now." 

Your eyes developed hot tears, threatening to cascade down your flushed face at any moment. Alastor sighs heavily, setting his newspaper down on the coffee table. 

"Invictus. Have you heard of the poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley?" 

You blink, a few tears tumbling down your cheeks," I... Can't say that I have, honestly." Alastor hums in acknowledgement, manifesting a parchment out of thin air. 

"Would you care to hear it?" 

You make eye contact with Alastor, his smile simple, unforced. His face hung perfectly neutral as he waited for your permission. You, of course, had no qualms about hearing his voice. 

"O-Of course... Go ahead." 

Alastor cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair as he began. 

"Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul." 

A part of you smiled on the inside. Unconquerable.... This was definitely Alastor-coded to you. You didn't comment on this as he continued.

"In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed." 

You feel the tension in your shoulders disappearing, slumping forward as your body finally relaxed. Something about his voice, the evenness and clarity of his tone made you react physically. You couldn't put your finger on it... But he soothed you. He always had. 

When Alastor stood, your eyes widened, watching as he started to advance towards you. 

"Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid." 

The filter over his voice thickens, typically a telltale sign of Alastor's emotions fluctuating. Was he frustrated with you? Cross with you? You should have known better than to talk to him like this... God, what an idiot you were. But Alastor didn't feel this way. Alastor strode directly to your side, a hand settling on the top of your chair. With a flick of the wrist, he dismissed the parchment. He was quoting the poem from memory now.

"It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll" 

Alastor leans down to you, his free hand going to your shoulder. He shakes it gently, his radio filter fizzling out. His voice was left raw and bare, only for you to hear. His smile reached his eyes as he continued, his gaze not wavering from yours. 

"I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul." 

A comfortable, round silence fell between the two of you. You were conscious of his warmth, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. You were aware of his heartbeat, strong and steady like a metronome. You were aware of his stature, bent heavily at the hip to match your height. Your felt his eyes, kind and sincere, searching yours for a spark. You felt your heart flutter for a moment, as the weight of the poem and it's meaning settled over you. 

"What a lovely poem, Alastor," was all you could mutter, voice dry and brittle from your fragile, emotional state. 

"Of course. A powerful one, at that. I reflect on it often when I feel an inkling of... Doubt. Trepidation." 

Alastor, the one-and-only Radio Demon, having self doubt? What a troubling thing for him to entrust in you. 

"I encourage you to remember it well. And, you must reflect on it when these feelings of regret and anguish wash over you. I find that it can be very helpful; illuminating. It can remind you of your importance; your agency in your afterlife." 

Alastor, in a rare moment of tenderness, pats the top of your head, letting his fingers curl and run through your hair. 

"Shall we talk about anything else that troubles you, darling?' 

You blink, still reeling from the poem, it's gravity, and the kindness being showered upon you," N-No I.... No, I think I feel much better now. Thank you, Alastor." 

The Radio Demon accepts your answer, giving your hair a playful ruffle. He stands back up to his full height, his hand retracting from you slowly. 

"Anytime, dear. Though I think it's time to get a head start on the day, hmm?" You look up to the Radio Demon, who already has a cup of coffee summoned for you. You smile, graciously accepting the offering. 

"Of course... But... Could you... Y'know?" You tilt your head forwards Alastor's free hand, asking for more contact. Alastor sighs dramatically, before granting you more affection. Just look at how hopeless you were... It was almost too much.

"I suppose a minute or two more of this wouldn't hurt, would it?" 

[emacrow]

Cass secretly brought home a cardboard box during Mr. Freeze attempt to freeze gotham again after patrols.

Problem being is nobody knows that she brought home a creature until things started going missing.

First it was Damian's favorite katana, then dick's nightwing mask, Tim's personal coffee mug that he still accusing of Dick taking it, Duke's special sunglasses, one of the Barb's purples USBs, one of alfred's cookie mixing batter spoons, Jason's old Robin cape during a few months or so..

It came to Bruce attention the moment his batman belt went missing when he went down the batcave...

Someone brought something home that taking their stuff and mostly all point to Damian who swears on the lararus pits themselves that he didn't do it.

Cass is quiet the whole time.. until Tim noticed and pointed out that in the board of missing stuff and clues that She didn't get any of her stuff stolen..

Her face went still before a tiny adorable dust of pink went across her face as she handed signed that she may have.... found a abandoned creature during patrols... a couple of months ago.

Cass leading them to her room to her closet that look iced cold yet able to function still where a makeshift nest of sort of soft blue space related blankets, and all the stuff that were stolen along with other items they didn't even noticed were taken.

And the culprit behind it all was a tiny little looking 8 year old boy with pale skin, glowing defying gravity like black mixed white hair, with pale mixed greenish blue eyes. The kid wearing one dove hoodie Jammies, staring wide eyed at them.

Before the batfam can speak, Cass made a shushing motion with her mouth as she signed that he can't really control his voice that sound much like a banshee.

Part 2

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic Idea: Lights and Camera

"There he is," Tim whispered, looking out from behind the library bookshelves. Besides him, Bart, Kon, and Cassie lean over him, stacking each head on top of each other so they can adequately see who Tim is pointing out.

Across the libary, Babs shales her head with a sigh but doesn't call them out. For one, it would be unnecessary loud and another....well, she enjoys having blackmail on her vigilante coworkers and the Young Jutice team climbing on top of each other to stare at a random civilian was the good kind. She turns back to her list of books to stamp and scan back into the system.

Tim had mentioned seeing someone he wanted to recruit for his and his teammates' fake online clothes store. It was the cover the teens had come up with, for an explanation on how they all had such different backgrounds but had still become friends.

The other bats thought it was a mere cover, but Babs knew how seriously Tim took his fake store. It was mostly due to Tim's team making very realistic cosplay outfits that are commissioned to their site. Since they catered to such a nitch community Tim wanted each job to be perfect. (Also he's a nerd like that)

Or maybe it had everything to do with Tim's not-so-secret adoration of photography.

Bart made the clothes, Cassie and Conner modeled and Tim took all the photos. It helped that the speedster was used to making clothes in the post-apocalyptic future, but no one could deny his master of the needle. Cassie and Conner were both rather good looking, and they seemed perfectly fine with showing off this fact.

The thing is, their store is starting to gain traction. If it weren't for the fact, Bart could move as fast as he could, Just Us fashion would be behind orders for months.

Tim was worried someone would catch on and figured they should attempt to hire a co-tailor. They attempted to reach out to fellow heros but no one their age was interested and they seemed rather put off by the idea of asking a adult.

Everyone was still tense from the last time Young Justice asked the Justice League for help.

Tim then decided to attempt to find a civilian who would help them with smaller pieces. Or maybe someone he could throw in front of a camera and pretend Conner or Cassie had taken a step back from modeling to help out with the orders.

His team allowed him to search for someone since they had no idea where to start. Tim scouted through all of Gotham, and ended up landing on Danny Fenton.

Babs had looked into Fenton's background as a favor to Tim and to satisfy her own curiosity. There wasn't much to the boy. Born and raised in a small town in Illinois, Fenton dropped out of high school to get his GED around his junior year. The notes on his file by his English teacher, principal, and school counselor indicated he was bullied out of school.

He passed the exam on the first try and, within a year, moved four states away to join Gotham School of Arts with a major in fashion. His parents were certified geniuses with a family company working in security and "ecto-entities." His sister was going to Gotham University for a physiology major.

The Fentons are a comfortable upper middle class family with no criminal history; the only blemish on their record is Jack Fenton's speeding tickets.

Fenton lived in the better parts of the city, paying his way through college and his own expenses by working as a remote tech support for various companies. It seemed he had inherited a knack for computers from his parents.

Barbara wasn't sure what about Fenton stuck out to Tim. The boy barely participated in public events when it came to his fashion. He only turned in assignments, and unless Tim made a habit of walking through the school of arts, he would have never seen his work.

"Wait, is he wearing-?" Conner whispered, squinting at Fenton, who was tapping away on his laptop. "He is! That's Flame-Flame battle pants!"

"No way." Bart gasps, standing on his toes to lean closer. "They look so good! Where did he get them?"

"He made them," Tim says with a certain lift to his voice that Babs recognizes easily. Aw, her little computer partner has a crush. "He makes all kind of fandom merch that can be worn out in public."

"Tim, we got get him on the team. Look at that Flame-Flames sweatshirt! I need it" Cassie hisses, rocking in place. She nearly causes Conner- who was leaning on her- to tumble over. "Go talk to him."

"I can't"

At that, Babs glances up. She's never heard Tim be nervous to speak to anyone before. Yet that's what she finds as the Young Justice team disappear aroudn the coner surrounding a red face Tim.

"What do you mean you can't? Why not?" Conner asks

"Look, I already tried to recruit him but messed up my pitch." As he admits, Tim kicks his feet, not bothering to look anyone in the eye. When he locked eyes with me, I choked on my spit midsentence."

Cassie slaps a hand over her mouth, but she is not fast enough to hide the snicker that slips through. The glare she gets from the only regular human could have sent her to her uncle Hades. "I'm sorry, you choked on your spit? Mr. CEO of WE? Mr. Suave? Mr. New Lover, every other Tuesday?"

"Shut up you don't get it! He was dressed in a really cool outfit of the Ninjas of Konoha, okay!? I wasn't prepared."

Barbara glances at Fenton as the team attempts to tease Tim. Rather loudly. It's like they forget they are in a really old building, so the acoustics pick up their voices really easily.

Based on his blushing face and hunched-over form, Fenton can obviously hear them. He keeps sending short glances to the shelf the other teens hide in. Fenton glances at his computer screen before rapidly fixing up his hair and straightening his clothes.

He fixes his scattered papers just as Tim rounds the corner of the bookshelves, looking rather nervous as he scoots to Fenton's desk. Babs watches the remaining young juice team whisper and shout encouragement as Tim stands next to Fenton.

Fenton's face, if possible, go even redder, and much to Babs' shock, he even starts to twirl the end of his ponytail around his figure as Tim starts talking.

This is cute. She thinks, aiming her camera phone at the pair. Taking three different shots, each displaying Tim's fumbling mess and Fenton's obvious interest, she quickly sends it to the bats with an evil smirk. And sort of pathetic.

She gets answers instantly, almost everyone teasing Tim or making "They grow up so fast" comments. The messages make a warm feeling of the family burn in her chest, reminding her of all that they argue about; the Bats truly care for one another.

It's Bruce's thoughts that shatters the chat with a simple text.

Why is Tim flirting with the Ghost King?

Babrbara stares at the words for a long moment before she types

Babs: What do you mean? Who's the Ghost King?

Bruce: That's the Ghost King or his human form. He rules the ghosts and our flip dimension. The Justice League Dark has him marked as a level 15 threat.

Damian: I beg your finest pardon? There are only five other beings on that threat level.

Bruce: Exactly. Tim knows not to speak to him.

Steph: Ugh Bruce none of ous knew that.

Bruce: He was in the yearly safety warning PowerPoint. You all said you reviewed it.

Jason: That thing is nine hours long! Of course, not all of us would actually look through it.

Bruce: I worked very hard on it. :'(

Duke: Guys? Shouldn't we worry about Tim? I mean is the Ghost King going to hurt him

Bruce: No, he's known to be very benevolent. Just as long as you don't accidently insult him.

"I'm not a whore!" The voice cuts through the air like a bullet. Barbara glances up just in time to see Tim backing up with a panicked expression as Fenton sneers.

He quickly gathers his things with a flick of his wrist, having all left in a bright green glow, and pushes by the shuttering vigilante. He stomps his way out of the library with an inhuman growl.

Tim throws his face into his hands with a wail of dispair. "I should have never listen to Dick's flirting advice!"

Barbara slaps a head over her forehead before texting the rest. So Tim may have called the King a whore.

Bruce: This is why I ask you to read my safety PowerPoint.

[zealouswitchwerewolf]

DP AU where the box ghost is actually someone from the future that came back as a ghost to try and warn Danny before all the major battles. The problem is that ghosts are mostly ruled by emotions and since he isn't directly connected to all the battles as they happened, his memories get fuzzy at best so whenever he warns Danny, it's either because there's about to be a world ending event or because someone's cat got stuck on a tree (and anything in between)

So when Danny joins the JL as Phantom they ask him about his rogue gallery. He tells them all about the ancients he fought and skulker and the GIW, even his parents, though he only says they were mad scientists with a huge bias.

And then, after he tells them about the "plasmius incident" they ask whether he thinks Vlad is the one that's caused him most trouble and Danny goes quiet for a bit and looks thoughtful for way too long before saying in a quiet voice "no, that's actually the box ghost. He's always warning me about something. It's terrifying"

The JL are concerned. What could be worse than all the Eldritch terrors Danny has described? They try to ask for details but whenever they bring the topic, Danny gets this lost stare and goes silent until they change the topic or snap him out of it. It's kind of unsettling. So they leave it be. Even Batman doesn't push it (he would rather not traumatize the kid more, thank you very much, he's also wondering if he can adopt someone that's technically dead, asking for a friend).

And then the box ghost shows up at the watchtower. They all come running when they hear the ominous "Beware". Batman activates all the alerts. Boxy just throws a box at him, then leaves. Batman calls for a meeting, most of the heroes were already in the watchtower anyway, he describes the incident to phantom.

Danny: ah, that was just his way of saying hi. I guess he wants to start haunting you too. Should be fun :)

Batman: hn

The JL: ?!?

Danny: Don't worry, I'll ask him to be nicer next time :)

Flash: was that... Supposed to be terrifying? He just threw a box, right?

Danny: 🤷🏻‍♀️